SYNOPSISMercy is no friend of mine. Karma, she has yet to show kindness to me.The hits just keep on coming for Tessie Marie Harlow. She has never had an easy life. Her mom disabled, her dad long gone, and a single mom raising a rambunctious little boy, that’s Tessie’s world.Her childhood aspirations to be a nurse long since disappeared after a college spring fling both blessed and cursed her with a baby boy. Dropping out of school, she returns to her hometown and begins to settle in. Getting the only job she could as a bartender she spends her days caring for her son and nights serving the Hellions Motorcycle Club and their affiliates. Tired of waiting for Rex to grow up she’s faced with the bane existence of her life until one night changes everything. In the darkest hour of her merciless ride through life, she’s saved by a quiet, laid back Hellion.Andy ‘Shooter’ Jenkins has always been around. Too wrapped in Rex she’s never really noticed him before. He has never been loud or known to have the girls hanging all over him. He is a mystery. A chance encounter brings him to her rescue not once but twice.The Desert Ghosts Motorcycle Club are in town and bring their own brand of chaos right to Tessie’s door. Forced into her day to day life, Shooter is doing everything he can to shelter and protect her as lines are crossed and a war between two clubs begins. Secrets revealed putting two brothers in the Hellions Motorcycle Club at a serious crossroads in their lives. This is not a ride for pleasure. This is not a ride for safety. This is not a ride for love. This is a ride for survival. Mercy has never once shined her grace down for these two, but in the midst of the danger and lies can they learn to rely on one another and ride it out together?

This book contains strong language, strong sexual situations, violence and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. Please do not buy if any of this offends you. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a true or exact depiction of a motorcycle club but rather a book meant to entertain.

Ugh. Ouch. Everything hurts. Every centimeter of my body is in pain. Slowly, I start to stretch, attempting to open my eyes. They are tight, though; they won’t open. Panic fills me as I reach up and touch my face.Tentatively, I feel around to find my head wrapped in what feels like gauze and bandages on my left cheek. My mouth feels puffy, even on the inside. The taste of old blood mixes with my saliva as all my senses go into overdrive. My anxiety grows as my breathing becomes more erratic. Why does everything hurt?“Breathe, baby. I need you to breathe.”“Shooter?” I ask, recognizing his voice.“Yeah, I’m right here.” His words are soft, somehow soothing as the fear continues to escalate.“Shooter, where am I? What happened?”“You’re at my house.”“Wait, your house? Where is Axel?” Oh, my goodness, was I in an accident in Shooter’s car? Is Axel okay? Is he worried about me? Does my mom know where I am? Has someone called her? Who would know to call her? She must be worried sick. I am reaching around into thin air around me as I still can’t open my eyes. Large hands come around my wrists gently, pulling my hands down onto my stomach. I’m still lying flat in a bed.“Axel is with your mom and your aunt. They know you’re okay,” he calmly answers me as he releases my wrists.“Why am I here?” I question, needing to know what has happened.As he sighs, a delicate, soft hand squeezes my right hand. Instinctively, I jump. How many people are here? I strain to hear more of what is around me. Aren’t your other instincts supposed to be more in tune when you lose your sight? Why can I not figure out what is going on? Damn it, I need answers.“It’s me, Tessie. What do you remember?” Doll asks, as she starts to pull her hand out of mine. Knowing it is her, I squeeze, pulling her hand back into mine. Think, Tessie. Last night or tonight—I don’t exactly know what time it is—I went to work. It was busy. Rex was there. He was being an ass. The bar closed.The bar closed…I suck in my breath, my body starting to shake uncontrollably as the memories invade. The smell. My God, the smell of that man: oil, cigarettes, whiskey, and leather.

﻿﻿ABOUT THE AUTHOR﻿﻿Chelsea Camaron was born and raised in Coastal North Carolina. She currently resides in Southern Louisiana with her husband and two children but her heart is always Carolina day dreaming. Chelsea always wanted to be a writer, but like most of us, let fear of the unknown grab a hold of her dream; she realized that if she was going to tell her daughter to go for her dreams, that it was time to follow her own advice. Chelsea grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, and from that grew her love for old muscle cars and Harley Davidson motorcycles, which just so happened to inspired her ‘Daddy’s Girls’ series. Her love for reading has sparked a new love for writing and she currently has a few more projects in the works. When she is not spending her days writing you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in.She hates being serious and is still a big kid at heart. She is a small town country girl enjoying life and, Chelsea hopes that her readers remember not to take life too seriously and to embrace your inner five year old, because five year olds know how to enjoy the simple things in life and how to always have fun.